Different View
by Desvendapur
Summary: A story about a Jackal serving the Covenant military. These are the stories of his life, both good and bad, during the ten years leading up to the destruction of Halo.


**Prologue**

15 years prior to the Fall of Reach…

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A cool breeze passed through the trees of the forests, whose violet leafed trees reached high as far as the eye could see. This wasn't a world in the traditional sense, but it was instead a moon that burst with life. Life was typically flourishing, but for the time all was not well in the world. In this forest everything was not as it should be. There weren't any animals to be seen; the entire forest was now a desolate waste, even with towering flora. All that can be sensed is deathly silence.

All was not well in this world, for a restless echo could silently be heard. In this forest the violence had started; within the forest the violence still remained, now quiet and coiled; a serpent prepared to strike once more. Interspecies conflict had reached this moon; ravaged its lands, and for what cause it remained a mystery.

A single figure hidden beneath a suit of brown and leaves looked down the scope of his rifle. The avian-hominid-like creature had been positioned there for two hours without more than simple hand motions. A normally purple shined weapon had been wrapped in thick brown cloth along with some mud splatter to conceal it. This outsider had become perfectly integrated into this forest.

The Covenant sniper was a gentle, orange shaded Kig-Yar who beneath his camouflage wore a dark-blue suit of armor. Trained in the arts of war in the Eayn academy he was trained in tactics of the Kig-Yar, and of other races, however this was his first actual ground situation against the "human threat." What he lacked in experience was made up for in research of military tactics. A constantly circulating mind he was placed in a position where he could study enemy tactics and provide his thoughtful opinion on such scenarios if the need arose.

Carefully he studied the position of the forest that faced the human line. Zooming out a tad suddenly, he noted the tan colored chest piece of a human soldier moving through the foliage. Zooming back he was able to take account of multiple enemies moving cautiously through the brush. It was a unit that – judging by the number – would be what the humans called a platoon. They were spread apart in a way meant to conceal their numbers; using the forest to their advantage, which was a tactic commonly associated with human forces for they used such tactics to outmaneuver the greater in number Covenant ground forces.

Judging by their coarse they were advancing on the small squad positioned on the Covenant force's right flank to the north. The flank was mostly composed of Unggoy with a single Sangheili commander (all that could be spared to the hilly, rock covered region that made up the flank). Whatever it was they needed to be warned about the advancing platoon.

"Human team—two-hundred meters from our position," he hissed softly. "Suspect they are either recon, or flanking force. Perhaps even a diversion, but I suppose there's no confirmation of another advance?"

"I see them…and no other force confirmed," from a mound two meters from the concealed sniper another Kig-Yar's head emerged, this one being dark blue in skin color.

"Use the landline and message Vadamee and whoever has the flank," the lead said, returning his eye to his scope.

"Of course…"

The landline was a new device used by Covenant forces that was primitive in design, but good for secretive transmissions. A landline was a small cord, about the size of a thread that was hardly noticeable to any passersby that would connect to a small keyboard currently held at the two aliens' positions. From it the chords would connect to command outposts allowing instant – secure – communication. Scant dirt or foliage cover and the enemy wouldn't be able to spot the communication link no matter how well their eyes were.

Such measures were a necessary precaution at this stage in the war. Human A.I. programs had developed to the point that they could decipher the common Covenant transmissions and languages. Primitive, yet effective, the landline did not broadcast, and if any human attempted to tamper, or hack into it the entire device would go dead.

"Message has been sent…we are not to fire upon the human position," the spotter chirped in whisper to his ally, who continued to watch the human force through rifle sight.

A bound was formed between two partners. Both had come from military families which meant that both had a great sense of pride; not willing to operate with one who could jeopardize their judgment, and would interpret commands as they were meant. This sniper trusted his spotter to provide accurate feedback as well as being a voice of reason when things spiraled out of control.

Without warning the human force had come to a halt, standing behind the safety of foliage, but not entirely out of sight. The sniper was fine with observing humans without actual combat, but still, he felt uneasy about the humans even at this distance. Their pattern was very nonchalant. At the initial distance in which he had spotted them it required his full concentration to detect, but now if gave the image of being an incredibly simplistic pattern that was predictably dumb; like a fodder tactic the Sangheili would order the Unggoy to perform when they needed a distraction…humans, unlike Sangheili, cared greatly about their numbers.

"Look at how the move," he hissed intently, still keeping it to a whisper. "They do not move in a threatening manner. You do not march into combat at a stroll-pace. Something is all wrong! Humans are no fools in close-quarters environments. Never have they let us pick at them from afar."

"Humans are primitive," the spotter grunted in rebuttal, but he still took the advice of analyzing the human position. "Remember, they are not an advanced species. They are the only race not to have discovered the concept of energy shields, or plasma weaponry on their own – they aren't even capable of gaining knowledge from the few Forerunner artifacts that were once in their possession."

"You know that humans are in no way fools when it comes to this type of warfare," he replied. "They are cautious, smart, cunning…it's the only reason they continue to pose a threat to our superior numbers and technology. In fact in this setting our weapons are the inferior."

"How so?"

"_Invisibility, it is stability, for it is the one cause of reason, when facing an enemy of season,"_ the sniper quoted from Kig-Yar military doctrine. "If we fire off our weapons the humans will see the flash, and the path in which the blast follows. I would only get off two shots – at the most – from this position before they caught on, and then we'd have to move, or we'd be dead. Now a human, with their rifles, though they may be loud in sound, if they are far enough away they could be impossible to find."

"Your point is taken."

"Also, this formation is strange…" looking up from his scope his eyes connected with those of his ally, "the human forces on this world are very few; they know their best form of attack is through defense—using geography and knowledge of the terrain against us in defensive tactics that require very few men to accomplish…silence is their greatest ally, as is creeping…what we are seeing her is neither of those two options, which is the reason I am uneasy. I sense a great deal of sophistry in this entire formation; putting me on edge, waning my resolve."

"Perhaps you should wait and see," a blue gloved hand patted the worried sniper's shoulder. "As our prophet, Ki'Di'Ias said a thousand years ago: '_You learn nothing of your enemy so long as they linger in silence…what noises they make is what creates the definition of their moves.'_"

"_Then wait we shall, Exposing their hate…With every breath they so take," _the sniper replied in an upbeat tone, also quoting from his native scriptures.

The silence was interrupted by the loud, pounding cacophony of explosions in the distance, taking the team by complete surprise. Both Kig-Yar responded with indiscernible chirps of panic, gloved hands gripping ears.

"What was that?" snarled the sniper, standing up, casting aside his disguise.

"It came from the south that I am sure of!" his partner responded, getting down to the ground, checking their communicator.

"Human sophistry! I said it before, I'll say it again!"

Once the device's screen had been lit a gentle shade of purple, but now it was dead.

The sniper hissed, seeing that the spotter's landline terminal now crackled with static. That meant that the chord had been cut, or one receiver had been destroyed. Either way it meant they were now cut off from command. For the first time since they had landed he could feel his heart pounding frantically against his chest. Horrifying, was the situation, yet at the same time there was a certain exhilaration knowing that he was now really in a combat scenario where every choice he made had consequences. This feeling came over him almost as a drug causing his mine to sharpen, his muscles to tense, and everything around him becoming somewhat crisper.

"What do we do?" the spotter asked, fear seeping into his tone. He obviously was responding the situation in a different manner than the sniper.

"We need to establish contact with HQ." snarled the sniper, quickly checking the pistol at his side. It had a full charge, indicated by a green-lit gage.

"Do we go to the flank, or back to the center?" the spotter said, also coming up from the ground, checking the cartridge of a carbine.

Getting up the sniper shed several layers of camouflage, cocking his head in various directions. Predatory, yellow eyes scanned over the surrounding region for a few moments before he pointed to the south. There a thin trail of smoke worked its way over the horizon as a gentle serpent. It was a gentle, purple hue, of that it was clear which side had taken heavy losses.

"That comes from the main base. Priority one should be to make sure that the commanding officer is alive, or whether or not they need reinforcements…We need to get down there," the sniper said, turning to face the path that lead to the main encampment.

There was little to no doubt in his mind that the HQ was where he had to be at this time. It was clear to him now, but he couldn't quite explain what compelled him in that direction. For him everything he would do for the next two hours he did without thought, or consideration – he just did it.

Cautiously the spotter scanned the surrounding area, not instantly following suit as his partner slowly made his way off into the woods. Shaking his head he cursed in alien tongue before softly striding behind.

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The Covenant base was simply structured on the hillsides of the forest. It had been used as an observation post as the alien forces studied the human defense and had then become the center of the Covenant's command in the region. What humanity had been taught was that with their technology the coalition of varying alien races could hasten the assembly of their fortifications. By stacking supply crates and deploying stationary energy shields they could create a temporary haven in under an hour which was much swifter than the human use of sandbag, metal plate, and other primitive barricades. The humans also had counters to Covenant defense, but rarely did they have the chance to utilize them for on a normal situation once the orbital defenses of a planet fell the surface would be glassed. What they Covenant had for building defenses many of their ground forces lacked in experience; the ability to counter a hostile enemy push.

For the past eight days the temporary encampment had been the center of command for Covenant ground forces who currently were undertaking in the capture of a Forerunner artifact that had been found beneath a human city. Unfortunately the humans had apparently realized that the aliens would desire this upon its discovery so they were well prepared for the attack…but to no avail. Superior spacecraft had broken the human's thrown-together orbital defense with ease… Things only became difficult for Covenant forces when they arrived on the ground.

Unwilling to risk damaging the archeological find they couldn't bombard the human city, and this was used as an advantage against them at every turn. Once again the humans proved that on the ground – especially urban, and forest settings – that they could, with a few soldiers, create great complications. Man's greatest military prowess came to them when they took to the ground, this being the exact reason why the Prophets, as well as Sangheili high-command consistently refused to meet them on the ground, choosing space as the forefront of the war. What they humans called "gurilla warfare" had become something the Covenant species hadn't encountered in three centuries. Kig-Yar were the last to have used it, but little was it still practiced for the Covenant had grown accustomed to having little to no resistance, as well as the concept that all battles would be fought in fair situations. None of that existed in the war with the humans. The entire war was up for a free-for-all.

When last the sniper team had left the base camp two days ago it had been in full order with their field commander, Vadamee, organizing everything as planned. It was all a part of typical procedure, and thus far it had worked without flaw. Now the base was strewn with the corpses of its defenders who had totaled around fifty.

"What could have happened here?"

Crouched over, the Kig-Yar sniper moved through the wreckage. It had taken well over an hour to trek the dangerous terrain that composed the planets hills, and it only took longer when they had to move while keeping in mind the fact that human forces could be deployed anywhere. There was no need to remiss the fact that this was still the combat zone; that everything they did, or could do would have impact.

"I don't know," said the sniper, eyes acknowledging his partner who followed close behind. "It happened quick, of that I am sure."

He only had his plasma pistol in hand, rifle shouldered, his wrist-shield remaining deactivated (he didn't want to be seen if hostiles were still present). Whatever happened to the base had obviously been taken by surprise Unggoy hadn't even made it to their turrets and one Sangheili hadn't even managed to apply his helmet before he was cut down by intense projectile fire, his two plasma rifles flung far from hand.

"Human team came from multiple angles," the spotter said from behind. "Very few, but they came with great intensity, skill, and with superior coordination than what I've seen in the demo-vids; took the entire base by complete surprise."

The sniper halted, looking over the wreckage. Much of the base was still intact, if not operational. All the vehicles were accounted for, but their plates were ripped open, engines melted by high intensity plasma (likely grenade). Whoever had come had made sure that a siege of the primary human defense in the city would have to be postponed.

"Whoever had done this was efficient, calculated…deadly." Crouching over he holstered the pistol, a hand dabbing into the burnt residue of what remained of a ghost's engine. Shedding the glove of his right hand he gently scraped a talon to the eroded metal, a few bits of metal easily falling off into his palm.

"What do you think?" the spotter asked, holding a carbine at the ready.

"I'm not quite sure…"

Rolling the substance in hand, feeling the texture, and finally pulling it to his nostrils, gently wafting it. A very metallic sense, mixed with that of what could only be compared to the scent of an unearthly battery acid that stung the nostrils with potent reek. He was aware of the stinging sensation the metal was causing to coerce through his hand, but he did not bother to acknowledge it just yet. Standing there for a few moments he thought the situation over, and then cast the remains to the side.

"They've been gone for an hour. Whatever they were here for they accomplished; our entire line in these hills will crumble." He pointed to the hills. "Humans will move in over the line and force us back to the ships, no doubt meant to give them the chance to evacuate their citizens…no doubt is in my mind: the humans plan to evacuate, but to do that they must have us gone for but a while longer."

"Then they have succeeded," the spotter replied. "We need to withdraw or we should all die – there shall be no victory here until they have evacuated the bulk of their force or we have deployed our full ground force."

A nod of his head was the only response the lead Kig-Yar could give to his comrade. Inside his maw pointed teeth ground against each other, a tongue standing still in irritation. Flexing a hand the alien tried to collect himself, but it was without success.

His first battle was a loss without there being anything he could have done to change that outcome. Few understood the Kig-Yar sense of honor, for it seemed to be a constantly shifting virtue, but it could be consistently shown that the concept of being useless assets while at war was greatly frustrating. They could be privateers, pirates, traders, caravans, and fodder sent to the lines to support Sangheili, but they could not stand the feeling that they were without value. Without value – that was exactly how the sniper felt now.

Three meters away another Kig-Yar was on the ground, his head bashed in by a powerful blow that must have been delivered by thundering boot. Blood boiling the Kig-Yar stared at the corpse, trying to recollect the name of the soldier, but it escaped him. Without a soul, or even a face nothing could be read from this corpse.

"Tish'lys!" he cursed, his resolve finally breaking as he kicked a piece of purple scrap. "'What unto terra is one's worth in heat of deathly passion!'"

"Hello?" a nervous voice said from behind, causing both Kig-Yar to turn round, weapons raised. "Reinforcements are here now?"

A single, red clad Unggoy cowered, hands raised to its head in a sign of fear. Raising his pistol the sniper approached it, a scowl-like expression arched across his beak-ish maw. Anger had consumed him; though he knew not to straight-up kill the alien, he also knew that someone would have to bear the brunt of his fury.

"Its a little coward gas sucker!" he exclaimed, three-fingered hand grabbing the dwarfish alien by its throat, tugging it forward. "What happened here you worthless grunt! How many humans were there? Why are YOU alive when all others have perished?"

Flailing the terrified alien began to cry out in a panic fueled babble. Growling the Kig-Yar gripped the small alien's breathing mask. That was all the encouragement the grunt needed to cease its struggle; the fear of death by suffocation greater than that of physical pain that the Kig-Yar may inflict upon him. And the Kig-Yar did intend to hurt the Unggoy if the facts he desired weren't given.

"If you don't stop giving away our position I'll make sure you can't make another sound," he hissed, voice full of venom, which wasn't hard, for the Kig-Yar as a whole already despised the idiotic species. "I am Tolk Syt'Khani; I am your superior and demand information on the human attack!"

Terrified, the Unggoy returned to Kig-Yar's intense stare with wide eyes. "Me Kazz! I survive, and me do much good! Humans come—but they no human! Kill, kill everyone! Kazz hide away in hole; Kazz was sleeping!"

"You were what?" Brows crossing in primal fury Tolk leveled his head with those of Kazz, eyes burning through the rounded, weak eyes of the Unggoy. Talons of both hands wrapped around the Unggoy's small head, the claws of the ungloved right hand digging into the sides of the grunt's head. "You were hiding in a hole as humans came and wiped out the entire position!"

Fluorescent blue began to stream down the Unggoy's head, who only continued to panic, its gasping breath beginning to be heard even outside its breather. Such cowardice was a reason why the Kig-Yar hated the Unggoy so greatly. Not able to breathe the air of other species, providing nothing more than body shields whenever they were put into a combat situation – Tolk was sure that they were the greatest insult to ever penetrate any species' military tradition…even worse was the fact that the Sangheili seemed to view the Kig-Yar as being equal to such filth.

"Tolk, me no coward, Kazz is—"

"Silent, swamp breather!" Kazz was silenced as the Kig-Yar snarled in his face, jaws agape, with tongue flared. "You do not refer to me by name, methane sucker! I am your superior – your entire species is nothing other than slime suckers! Unggoy – you do not know my name! You do not even know the name of my species, for all I care! I am simply superior, and don't you forget."

"Yes, yes, but Kazz – Kazz do good!"

"What good have you done?" Tolk's partner asked, pointing his carbine to the head of Kazz. "All I see is saving yourself."

"Commander! Kazz save elite – he save commander!"

Suddenly Tolk's gentle yellow eyes widened, instantly releasing his hold on the Unggoy. Bending down, eyes softening he gently whispered to the Unggoy, who already held hands to his throat with great relief that the Kig-Yar's hold had ended.

"Vadamee – is that the leader still living?" Tolk finally asked.

"Yes, yes! Gold one is alive! He hurt bad, but he alive!"

Tolk tilted his head towards his partner who only nodded in approval. Sighing in relief the sniper snapped his glove back over his right hand. Even though it was minor, and against another member of the Covenant it felt good to release whatever anger he felt towards the humans on another, living being.

"What do you think, Shtok?" he chirped, looking over to his ally.

Shrugging the spotter lowered his carbine. "I suppose we should tend to our commander. He's the best chance we have of getting out of here."

Tolk looked to the Unggoy for a moment. He despised the worthless grunt, but the creature had worth if he could lead him to command. Still, a Kig-Yar hated having to fall under the grace of an Unggoy; a species whose intellect was greatly primitive. Even upon initiation of the Unggoy the Kig-Yar had protested their acceptance into the Covenant, but the Council would have none of it.

"Take us to him – we'll take a look at his injuries," Tolk said in a melancholy tone. Simply killed the Unggoy would have provided much relief. "Be thankful he's alive, or else we would not be so merciful on a coward such as yourself."

"You can help him?" Kazz said in the high-tone of voice typical of his species.

"True Kig-Yar soldiers aren't idle grunt workers," Tolk snapped at the Unggoy. "I come from noble blood; am trained in all forms of war, including first aid. Now, you take me to Vadamee and I will vanquish the thought of splitting your head."

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Pulling a blind Kazz lead the two Kig-Yar to a dimly lit chamber that had been carved into the ground. Such bunkers were often concealed in Covenant basecamps as a way of escaping the elements, preparing ambushes, or, as was in this case, used as temporary medical clinics. In the center of the room was a table, a gold clad figure spread across it.

"That is Vadamee, of that I'm sure," Shtok gently stated in a curt tone.

Brown rags and cloths were sloppily covering the commander's chest, purple blood soaking them…the chest gently heaved. He was certainly alive, but his condition was going to continue to degenerate unless actual medical care was provided. Tolk had noted that the medical supply crates above had been destroyed along with other useful supplies.

Eyes looking across the room a grin crossed his beak. Atop a small crate was a working communication center that was no doubt his ticket off this moon.

"Halt!" a warbled voice shouted, causing an uneasy Tolk to jump.

A blue clad Sangheili had raised a carbine from behind a supply crate. His sight clearly aimed towards the Kig-Yar.

"It me – Kazz!" shouted the Unggoy, quickly cutting in front of the two. "Look! Look! I bring help – they with us, elite! They with us and say they can help!"

Lowering his weapon the Sangheili's mandibles twitched in a questioning manner. "Kig-Yar? You must be one of the recon teams…"

"Team Shytax-4," Shtok said in reply, being far more comfortable with addressing the Sangheili than Tolk. "Operatives Tolk Syt'Khani and Shtok Kyn'Xias."

"Why have you come here?" This Sangheili minor was still wary of them, the Kig-Yar having established a pirate/mercenary reputation amongst Sangheili created stereotypes. It was true that there were many Kig-Yar pirates, who hunted both Covenant and human trade routes, but they had nothing to do with Kig-Yar culture as a whole; even the "Noble Sangheili" had criminals.

"We heard the human attack from our position," Tolk said calmly, well aware that a Sangheili would not be punished for shooting one of his kind. "When connection was terminated we decided action must be taken to provide aid to the command center. We ran into this one who told us the Commander was down, so we decided to see if we could provide any form of assistance."

Tolk approached the table that supported the downed commander, noting that the Sangheili minor still had his weapon raised on him. It was typical of them to not trust other species, for they practically referred to every species outside of their ranks as barbarians. The Sangheili probably had more respect for human soldiers than of the other species that composed the Covenant. Such pompous behavior was the species' greatest weakness; hubris that every race could see, yet they continued to blindly revel in ignorance.

Reaching across the table Tolk began to peel away the blood soaked cloth covering the elite's chest.

"That's far enough!" interrupted the minor.

Tolk sighed, hand hovering over the cloth. "He's going to die if you don't remove the human projectiles and seal the wounds!" He didn't care much for the commander's life, but it wasn't right to let another simply bleed to death outside of a fight.

"Filthy scavenger, the dead and dying are not for you to tamper with," growled the minor, now flanking the Kig-Yar. "I know your kind well; you'd feed off the flesh of the dead if only to extend your own life. Do not think you shall succeed today."

"If that were the case you'd already be dead!" Shtok suddenly interrupted. The spotter now held Tolk's sniper rifle, having it leveled on the Sangheili's head. "You're shield won't stop this."

"Drop it, Shtok!" Tolk shrieked, not wishing to play a game of these stakes without having his life safely put in his own hands. He would trust Shtok's judgment as a spotter, but he had no intention of letting him gamble his life like this.

"No fighting! No fighting!" Kazz shrieked, taking cover behind a supply crate.

"The Unggoy's right, Sangheili!" Tolk chirped, tilting his head. "We are all in the same situation here – my partner and I have no intent of meeting your kind's firing squads upon the dropship's arrival. I know basic first aid, and obviously your supplies were destroyed or you would have used sealing foam on the commander's wounds."

"Humans took it all out," Kazz said, only stating this to confirm the Kig-Yar's theory. "Big boom and it all gone!"

"I have first aid, the commander is dying, and your supplies are decimated…We can both benefit from each others' company…so let's handle things reasonably…"Tolk reached to his side, gently gripping his plasma pistol. Angrily, the minor raised his carbine once more as Tolk squeezed the end of the pistol, gently tugging it from his side, holding it up by the tips of his fingers, digits far from the trigger. He tried to come across as unthreatening as possible. "We're all in here together, Sangheili. All that matters to us is the survival of the leader; that fighting amongst ourselves is at this point worthless. We already lost this fight, no need to blame each other for the enemy's action."

Tolk dropped his pistol which clattered against the floor. As he did so the Sangheili lowered his weapon, as did Shtok. A fire fight had been averted for the moment.

Feeling that the nervous Sangheili understood the situation Tolk's hand once more took a hold of the rag, this time pulling it down far enough to reveal that gold chest plate that had been penetrated in five separate locations. Detaching a small case from his armor before he took it off Tolk began to eye the wounds, lowering himself close to the Sangheili's body.

"Get his armor off," he squawked sharply to the minor. "Can't do anything with it on."

"Nnnf," the tall Sangheili grunted in response. "I think I'll stay where I can see you." He then gave Kazz a push forward, indicating for him to take the task.

"I believe they used solid rounds – nothing hollow or explosive in nature," Tolk said as the Unggoy busily tried to unclasp the armor. With the threat of the Sangheili shooting him as he worked Tolk was intent on letting the nervous rookie know exactly what was going on (not that he didn't possess an equal lack of experience, but he also had been trained for this type of situation).

He knew very well from his own training that the Sangheili would not be held accountable for shooting any other species due to their higher standing.

"Vadamee's superior energy shield took must of their shots, but once it broke whoever had eye on him tried to get a grouping on the chest…with your aid station destroyed, and believing they wiped out t his position they must have believed that their wasn't need to waste ammo on a double-tap system."

Nodding, the minor's mandibles twitched. "They were very few…without faces and used armor superior to our own."

Tolk looked up to listen, his hand reaching for a small knife strapped to his thigh.

"They were quick – unlike any humans we've ever seen…Words do not describe them, only their uncompromising brutality. It would seem that the humans have enlisted the aids of demons, deep from the bowels of eternity to spite our Covenant."

There was a loud crackling noise as Kazz removed the chest plate which instantly slipped from his stubby arms, clattering to the ground.

"I don't wish to interrupt your story," Tolk said looking to the elite, raising his knife for easy viewing, "but I just want you to know that I intend on cutting the gel suit alone, so don't get up in arms."

With that he began cutting into the suit, making sure to avoid the wounds with the blade which had been sharpened to a point that it could slice through near anything.

"I hate the quiet," Tolk said as he traced a line down the chest with his blade, "so why don't you go ahead and tell us some more about these demons?"

"They came from the West without any warning," He began. Still at the ready the Sangheilli seemed more relaxed now. "Their weapons were silenced – we did not know the storm had fallen upon us until they had entered the base and begun their slaughter…once the sentries were down they went for the vehicles. We only knew that we were under attack when that explosion shattered the silence."

"That must have been what we heard from our position," Shtok said, looking behind, not feeling safe in a hole beneath the massacre.

"Yes, they killed many…the commander was hit early on just after he had drawn his sword. There was simply no time to organize a counter maneuver for they moved through the camp without stop…I was knocked unconscious early on in the fight and awoke to the massacre."

Tolk looked up from his work on the commander, raising a brow suspiciously to the Sangheili's story. Looking down he had separated the gel suit in the same manner one would when opening up a stock animal for dissection. Reaching down he gripped a long pair of prongs, gently lowering them to one of the oozing wounds.

"Hrrrg!"

The commander's body reacted, its back arching as he dug the tool in. It was only a moment, but the reaction had nearly scared Tolk out of his skin, but he was successful – he now had one round pulled from the commander's flesh. Most of the bleeding had stopped due to a resilient system, this making Tolk's job far easier in the fact that he didn't have to deal with obsessive bleeding alongside operating; he wouldn't be under the same circumstance had it been another Kig-Yar, since they could easily bleed out if they were not quickly attended to.

"Can you operate?" growled the minor, not really understanding anything other than the physical reaction of Vadamee.

"Yes…" Tolk hissed, glaring to the minor. "He is only acting on physical impulse…nothing more. You could help if you would get me some sealants."

"Of course…"

Getting past the different physiology of the Sangheili the concept of treating a projectile round was basically the same as it would be for any other species. All that could be worried about was whether or not the wounds entered the organs; if that were the case it worried Tolk that he may further threaten the commander's condition through his probing. Thankfully that wasn't the case, and the wounds were only very light in nature.

With initial shock he would quickly make his way through the motions of removing the rest and applying a sealing, medical fluid to the wounds. Luckily for the Sangheili his superior armor and thick skin allowed for minimal penetration. If – for example – the minor in the chamber had taken this damage he'd likely be KIA.

"So where is help?" Tolk finally asked. All had been silent as the operation had been underway.

"We contacted the command shuttle awhile back…" the minor said. "They should be here soon…with the commander alive they have more reason to come then a simple grunt pick up."

"And how long is soon?"

"By nightfall."

"Of course," Tolk calmly chirped.

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Outside Tolk sat atop an overturned supply crate, watching as the night sky began to take full form. With the stars so bright, the sky so clear, it came natural to forget the images of the slaughter that lay strewn around him. In times such as these people could easily lose themselves at the sight of such sorrow, but this was not the case with the rookie sniper. Not to be called callous, the Kig-Yar was actually quite placid, a cursory view of the day's events going through his minds. So long as he lived he would be thankful for the life he had been given; not dwelling on what he had no part of. To enjoy little things such as the beauty of stars from a planet's surface was one thing that could always be returned to.

Kig-Yar prophets were had always taught that the only battle that truly existed was within one's own mind; that in battle everyone cared scars both mental and physical. Though Tolk hadn't discharged a single shot from his weapon he still felt a great despair over the day's events. He didn't need information to come to the conclusion that he and Shtok were the only survivors of this day for his species. Kig-Yar had always been taught to engage their enemy without relent, and no doubt they all fought to the end with the human surprise attack; all dying in the process. It was times such as these that reminded Tolk why he was taught the Sytese faith rather than that of the Covenant Prophets. Only the Kig-Yar scripture could quell the anguish of a Kig-Yar mind.

"The stars share the anguish of loss, for they too know the pain of losing those who had once been beside them," Tolk whispered, a hand preening the plumage of his right wrist he turned his beaked head to an approaching Shtok.

"Are you well, Tolk?" the spotter asked.

"I am just fine…" Tolk replied, looking to the ground. "I have reason to accell now that so much life has been lost. A prophet may embellish all he wants, but their brevity in regards to policies must be dealt with."

"What do you speak of, Tolk?"

"I speak of the fact that our race must become a voice once more…We have to stand-up and remind the Covenant that we are more than what they have given credit…change shall come, but for now we wait."

Looking back to the stars he could see the gleam of a purple, 'U' shaped vessel beginning its descent. For now the battle was over for the two Kig-Yar, but inside they knew a greater struggle had just begun.


End file.
